


It'll kill if you let it

by annaiva_v



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Graphic Depictions of Illness, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Slow Burn, Vomiting, Werewolf Eddie Kaspbrak, Werewolf Richie Tozier, Werewolves, infected wound, infections
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24955423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annaiva_v/pseuds/annaiva_v
Summary: "I look up and a fucking wolf is standing above me. I try to scramble back but it places one huge paw on my chest and pins me to the ground. When I start to squirm it brings its jaws close to my ear and snarls, effectively pinning me in place.“Oh fuck, oh fuck. I don’t want to die like this. Why the fuck is there a wolf in the city anyway? I live in fucking downtown Montreal for fuck's sake!” My heart is beating so loudly I think the phone will be able to pick it up, shit. It’s still fucking recording a message to Richie. Great, he’s going to hear me getting fucking eating by a wolf. I reach out and try to end it but the wolf clamps down hard on my arm with its canines. A scream escapes my mouth as I feel my blood leak onto the pavement."
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 20
Kudos: 33





	1. Brighter than the blue skies

**Author's Note:**

> Can y'all tell I have a commitment problem. Is that too much to share on the internet to strangers? (No) Anyways have this.

Richie’s changed, now don’t get me wrong we’ve all changed since coming to college. But Richie doesn’t seem like Richie anymore. Like yeah, Ben got fit and finally confessed to Beverly, but he’s still Ben. Bev grew her hair out and started dressing how she wanted to dress, but she’s still Bev. Richie had always been such a solid fixture in my life, it was just a fact that he’d always be there. But he wasn’t. He disappeared one summer, and a stranger had come home in his place. Richie always used to be so loud, clothing-wise and voice wise. But now he was so alarmingly quiet. He hardly cracked a joke and he moved on to monotone colours and stupid turtlenecks. As much as I complained about his atrocious fashion it was so Richie, that I just couldn’t help but love it.

“Eddie? It’s your turn.” Bev’s voice pulls me back to reality. I roll out a five and land on the boardwalk. Stan Smiles as I hand over two-hundred monopoly dollars. I don’t even care that it’s the last of my money, my mind is still stuck on Richie. The worst of all the changes was him getting a job. He no longer had any time for our weekly Loser’s night.

“Stan? Did Richie say he was coming?” I’m hopeful that maybe he’s just running a bit late, and he’ll throw open the door looking so bad yet charming in a Hawaiian shirt and yell _sup fuckers_. Or something terrible like that.

“I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him in a while.” Fuck you a stupid heart for getting my stupid hopes up. But my brain holds on to the fact that Stan hasn’t spoken to him in a while.

“Don’t you two live together?” Ben asks from the other end of the couch. Stan looks like he’s thinking it over as if he’s weighing the pros and cons of telling us this information.

“No. He moved out two months ago.” What? Everyone seems as shell shocked as me except for Bill and Mike. Did Richie tell them and not me? The absolute fucker told them and not me, his closest friend?

“Are you going to be okay, money-wise? You guys had a fairly big place.” Of course, Stan will be ok, he’s studying to be a fucking accountant. On the other hand, Richie’s the psychology bitch who should rethink his career because he doesn’t know anything about other people's feelings.

“I’m moving in with Bill and Mike next week.” We were never the friend group to keep things from each other, but know it’s changed. Why has there been so much change? Why can’t things stay the same forever, why did Richie have to be so different.

“Did you guys have a fight or something? Why would Richie move out without telling me?” I ask Stan, he shakes his head no.

“All he said about it was that he needed to be on his own.” What is that even supposed to mean? Does he not want to hang out with us anymore, has he grown out of us? 

“What’s his new address? We should get him a housewarming present or something.” Why is everyone being so nonchalant about this? Richie made a huge life decision and only told one of us about it.

“I don’t know. He didn’t want to give it to me, so I didn’t push.” Why do you have to be so fucking understanding? Can’t you see we’re losing him?

“Oh? That’s not like him.” Thank you Beverly for finally noticing something is going on with him. 

“I think it’s safe to just give him some space, and let him figure himself out.” What is wrong with all of them? Don’t they feel that it isn’t right without Richie here?

“I’m going home.” I stand up from the sofa and no one stops me.

“ _You’ve reached Richie Tozier, please leave a message_ ” Fucking voicemail, again.

“Why didn’t you tell me you moved? You don’t tell me anything anymore. I really wanted to see you tonight, but of course, you didn’t show, again. You’re a really shitty friend, do you know that? I’m sure you do, you’re in psychology after all. I really miss seeing you.” I hang up and press call one more time.

“ _You’ve reached Richie Tozier, please leave a message._ ” 

“Fuck you, Richie!” In anger I toss my phone to the ground, not remembering I’m walking outside. It meets the concrete with a dull smack, and I pray that it hasn’t been broken beyond repair. I pick it up and see that a message is still recording. I go to press end but hot heavy panting distracts me. I look up and a fucking wolf is standing above me. I try to scramble back but it places one huge paw on my chest and pins me to the ground. When I start to squirm it brings its jaws close to my ear and snarls, effectively pinning me in place.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. I don’t want to die like this. Why the fuck is there a wolf in the city anyway? I live in fucking downtown Montreal for fuck's sake!” My heart is beating so loudly I think the phone will be able to pick it up, shit. It’s still fucking recording a message to Richie. Great, he’s going to hear me getting fucking eating by a wolf. I reach out and try to end it but the wolf clamps down hard on my arm with its canines. A scream escapes my mouth as I feel my blood leak onto the pavement.

“Fuck, fuck. I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die like this.” By some fucking miracle, the creature releases my arm and slightly backs away. I try my hardest to keep still as the wolf continues to back away. The full moon reflects in its eyes and I’m struck by how human they look. They’re a pale blue that painfully reminds me of Richie, and they almost seem to convey a look of sadness. It bears its fangs at me one last time before disappearing into the underbrush. A breath releases from my chest and I practically sprint home.

I slam the door behind me and run straight to my bathroom. I hurriedly strip off my clothes and step into the small shower. The spray of water is freezing cold and it momentarily distracts from the searing pain on my arm. I stick it under the spray and wince when it flares up once again. After disinfecting it as much as I can I wrap it in gauze and dial Richie again.

“ _You’ve reached Richie Tozier, please leave a message._ ” I pace around my small apartment as I talk.

“Sorry about that last message, I’m kinda fine? Actually, I don’t know,” I sigh and try to hold back the waterworks.

“I’m really sorry you had to hear that, but can you fucking believe it? Who knew there were fucking wolves in the city? Anyways That bitch bit me so I’m going to have to go get another rabies shot. God, I think I just have terrible luck with animals. Funny thing though its eyes reminded me of you, I know that’s such a weird thing to say but it’s true. Since I haven’t seen you in a while maybe you could drive me to the clinic, your french is way better than mine. I know we wanted to get away from Derry but Montreal’s pretty fucking far,” I sit down in my bed and pull the covers up to my chin.

“I’d really like to see you, so if you actually listen to this please call me back.” I hang up and place my phone on the nightstand. I decide to call the losers tomorrow, maybe Richie and I can meet up with them. My eyes slowly slip closed as I think about the wolf's blue eyes.

A pounding at my door and in my head wakes me up. I check the clock and mentally curse out whoever is at my door. It’s eight in the morning for fuck’s sake. I swing open my front door to see a frankly very Ill looking Richie. He has terrible eye bags and there’s a gash running from the corner of his eyes to the bottom of the cheek. He smiles and holds up a box of chocolates. I let him in and he instantly brings me into a hug. I breathe in and my nose is assaulted by the heady scent of cigarettes and mint.

“I got your messages this morning, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I melt into his embrace and just let him hold me for a few seconds more.

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not like you attacked me.” He steps away from me and searches my face, most likely for any injuries. Speaking of that, what the fuck happened to _his_ face?

“How’d you get this?” I brush my finger next to it and he seems to burrow into my touch.

“Nicked it on the corner of the coffee table when I slipped. I went to the ER, left my phone at home.” He seems genuinely apologetic about so I decide to not chew him out, this time. I take the chocolate from his hands and inspect it. It’s filled with chocolate caramel chunks and I smile gratefully at Richie.

“You still need to drive me to the clinic and buy me lunch. Then I’ll consider not being mad at you.” He gently takes my wrist between his fingers and begins to unravel the bandage.

“Don’t do that, it’s gonna look so gross and you’re just gonna get it all dirty and infected.” He doesn’t listen to me and lets the gauze drop to the floor. I expect there to be some blood and pus caked around it, but it’s surprisingly clean. There’s hardly any indication that it was made last night. It looks almost years old, there’s no scabbing just slightly raised pink skin.

“I swear it looked way worse last night.” He gently runs his hand over the skin and it tingles.

“I could hear it. I was so scared cause I thought I,” He takes a breath and pauses.

“I thought _it_ had killed you.” He pulls me in his arms once again and cradles my head.

“Just drive me to the clinic, ok?” My voice is wet and I know if he holds me any longer I’d start crying. Fuck, I’d missed this.

“I’ll do anything for you, Eds.” I can feel tears gather in my eyes.

“That’s not my name.” He pulls away with a sad smile on his face.

“Whatever you say, Eds.”

The ache in my head gets worse as Richie drives. The burning pain starts about twenty minutes into said drive. My head lolls to the side and bumps along with the road. 

“Rich, I don’t feel good. Everything hurts.” The car skids to a stop and both of us lurch forward.

“Make it stop hurting, please, Richie.” He jumps out of the car and opens and closes the back door. My door opens and he’s cradling my head in his hands.

“Are you cold?”

“No! I’m fucking burning up, I think I’m going to be sick.” He ignores my answer and shoves me into a massive hoodie. He places a blanket around me and forces himself into the car seat with me. He pulls me against my chest and rubs my arms up and down.

“Just breathe, that’s it. Just breathe.” I’m enveloped in his heat and smell and it dulls the pain.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. It hurts.” He shushes me and places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“It’ll pass. You’ll be fine.” His words ring true and the tension leaves my body.

“Is that what happens when you have rabies? Oh my god, I got fucking rabies from a fucking rabid wolf!” Richie climbs out of the car and back into the driver's seat.

“Sure you do, Eds. Let’s get you to the hospital then?” 

I’m assured by the doctor that I do not, in fact, have rabies, and that it was most likely my anxiety disorder acting up. Richie doesn’t say anything throughout the entire checkup. He just sits in the corner wrapped up in a blanket.

“Rich? I’m ready to go.” He nods and we walk to the ice cream parlour down the street.

“Thank you, for earlier.” He buys me ice cream and we get a table by the window.

“Can you stay with me for a bit, like at my place. I know I’ve been kinda shit but I really need to stay close to you.” Radio silence, then asking me to drop everything to stay with him.

“No.” He looks surprised, almost as if he expected me to say yes.

“Oh, alright then I’ll drive you home.” Our evening is cut short and I’m a little bummed about it, but he can’t just expect me to go along with his every whim. He drops me off and I make the exhausting trek up the four flights of stairs. By the time I’ve reached the top, I’m not even the slightest bit breathless. I file that into my what the fuck folder and set it aside for later, right now I need to worry about changing the dressing on my wound. As soon as my fingers begin to unravel the bandages my wounds throb. The pain is so terrible that I find myself collapsing to my knees in agony.

“Fuck.” I whimper as the wounds are revealed. The previously healed skin has separated into an array of yellow puss and blood. I inwardly gag and crawl towards the bathroom, I don’t make it. I spew vomit all over my clean hardwood floor.

“Fuck me.” My arm throbs and I’m brought back to the reason why I’m crawling on the floor. The wound that was fucking fine this morning now looks like it’s in the late stages of a very terrible infection. I need to go to the hospital, I need antibiotics, I need to clean to vomit off of my floor. Instead, I find myself calling Mike, He picks up right away.

“Hey, Eddie. What’s up?” I pinch the bridge of my nose and inhale deeply, once, twice.

“What do you know about werewolves?” Richie made me watch that stupid werewolf movie and now it’s all I can think about. The toxins from my infection have probably travelled to my brain, that’s the only explanation on why I’m calling Mike about werewolves and not the fucking hospital.

“Um, not much. Can I ask why you’re asking?” 

“I think they’re real. And I think I got bit by one.” I can distinctly hear Mike questioning me as I puke on the floor again.

“I’m coming over, so’s everyone else.” He hangs up the phone and I narrowly miss falling into my own vomit. I’ve gone crazy, I’ve gone fucking crazy. I called Mike about werewolves when I should have called an ambulance because I think I’m about to fucking pass out.


	2. When you look at me like that, my darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update! New developments :)

Twice on the same day, I’m woken up by a pounding at my door. I groggily get up and crawl/drag myself to the door. When I open it Mike looks just about ready to break the door down.

“Eddie, what the hell? You scared me so much.” Well, I didn’t mean to pass out, but I still feel quite bad. Ever since Derry we’d been reluctant to let any of us out of sight.

“Oh honey, are you ok?” Bev walks in and she helps me onto my couch.

“I think I’m sick.” Bev gives me a look as if to say ‘you haven’t noticed’ and goes into my broom closet. She pulls out two mops and hands one to Ben.

“You guys don’t have to clean. I can do that.” She shushes me and pulls out the rest of my cleaning supplies, which admittedly is a lot.

“Nothing can be worse than my blood-covered bathroom.” I shudder at the memory as Mike brings my medical kit over. He positions my arm on the sofa and I wince at the movement, the wound looks just as bad as earlier. Maybe even worse.

“Shit, you didn’t tell me it was this bad. When did this happen?” I launch into the events of that night and everyone listens with rapt attention.

“You sure it wasn’t a dog?” Ben asks halfway through.

“Dogs don’t look like that.” He seems convinced and I continue on as Mike disinfects my arm.

“You think it was a werewolf?” There are no laughs like I expected. Maybe it’s because we killed an inter-dimensional space clown at the ripe age of fourteen. Werewolves didn’t seem as outlandish anymore. I also tell Mike about my ‘anxiety attack’ in Richie’s car, and how Richie knew exactly what to do.

“It was like my bones were trying to get out of my skin. And I thought I was burning up, but then Richie wrapped me in a blanket and then I was fine.” Mike gets his thinking face on and brings out a pile of books from his rucksack. Ben and Bev finish cleaning and they crowd around Mike and me.

“Lots of these are just bullshit, but there might be some truth in them.” We go through them for hours and come up with basically nothing.

“Was there a full moon?” I nod.

“Have any of you other sense improved?” I think back to when I walked up four flights of stairs and I wasn’t hyperventilating by the end. Richie also did smell really good today, but that could just be a new colon.

“Actually yeah, I wasn’t even winded coming up the stairs today. And Richie smelt really strong today. I haven’t noticed any other stuff though.” Mike nods and scans a few more pages from his book.

“Well the full moon about a month away, so I guess we’ll just have to see then.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not gonna wait and see if I turn into some fucking animal! I don’t want that to happen, I don’t want to be some fucking freak!” Bev puts a comforting arm around me and pulls me into her chest.

“Mike didn’t mean it like that honey. We just don’t have a lot of options right now.” I wipe away my gross crying snot and close my eyes.

“Haven’t I been through enough?” First the stupid fucking clown, and now I’m fucking diseased.

“Of course you have, but we’ve got to keep going forward.” She holds me against her until I stop crying. Maybe it’s not as bad as I’m making it out to be. Maybe I’m overreacting and it’s just an infected dog bite. which is still a terrible disgusting thing, but not supernatural.

“I’m sorry for dragging you guys out here over probably nothing.” They tell me it’s no problem as I go to the kitchen to make some snacks. I wipe the back of my hand across my forehead, it comes away moist. I set the knife down and lean against the counter, taking in a shaky breath.

“Bev? Can you come here?” I hear her footsteps and feel her hand on my shoulder.

“You look like you’re burning up? Are you ok?” She puts a cold hand to my forehead and I lean into her touch.

“Shit, you’re running a fever.” She calls for Bill but I can’t hear what she’s saying. He runs in and starts leading me to my bedroom, he pushes me down onto the bed. Someone holds my mouth open and places something on my tongue and a rush of water enters my mouth. I slap at whatever’s in front of me.

“M’ not sick mommy.” My words slur together as weight is placed on my forehead.

“Richie? Want Richie.” Someone shushes me and I slip into the darkness.

Light pressure on my scalp makes me open my eyes. I’ve got to blink a few times to clear the sleep from my vision, but it’s a nice sight when I can see clearly.

“Richie.” He turns away from his phone and smiles down at me. His hand leaves my hair and I mourn the loss.

“How ya feeling?” I try to speak through the mushy feeling in my tongue but fail. I shrug instead, but Richie seems to understand. His fingers return and he massages my scalp, it pulls a satisfied hum from my throat.

“Are you sore?” There’d been a deep ache in my bones ever since the car ride, so I nod. He frowns and reaches behind him for something. He pops open and Advil and hands me a pill, I swallow it down with the water he hands me.

“What time is it?” Richie checks his phone and grimaces.

Nine in the morning.” That’s not as bad as I thought, it’s only been a few hours.

“You’ve been in and out for a few days.” My eyes bulge out of my head, a few days? I can’t even remember, is this a side effect of my new disease?

“Bev said you had a fever, are you still feeling warm?” He puts his hand to my head and I close my eyes. His touch soothes the burning. He clicks his teeth together and removes his hand.

“You’re still burning up, that’s strange.” Strange? His brows are knitted together in concentration.

“Strange?” He looks up in surprise, almost like he forgot I was even there.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate, and he doesn’t get too because Bill opens the door.

“Hey, Eddie. I brought some soup.” He sets the tray on my desk and comes over to me. He gives me a once over and reaches his hand to feel my forehead. I try to back up but I’m cocooned in my sheets, I’m getting tired of people touching me. Richie clues into this and instead of telling Bill to back off like a normal person, he fucking bites him. He launches forward and clamps his teeth on Bill’s forearm. Bill lets out a shriek and tries to pull his arm free, but Richie’s got him like a vice.

“What the fuck! Let go!” I break my arms free from the cocoon and pull Richie back from Bill, he lets go and leans back in his chair with a dangerous look in his eyes. Bev runs into the room and stops in her tracks when she sees Bills bleeding arm.

“What happened?” Bill points to Richie with an accusatory finger, Richie wipes the blood off his mouth.

“The fucker bit me.” The fucker in question stands up and basically runs from the room, the front door slams shut.

“I hope he had his rabies shot. Jesus, what is wrong with him?” I keep thinking back to the look Richie had in his eyes, they were cold. Bill and Bev leave to clean his wound and I’m left alone again. I pick up my phone and dial Richie, he doesn’t pick up.

“ _You’ve reached Richie Tozier, please leave a message._ ” I sigh.

“What the fuck was that? You fucking bit Bill! The hell’s wrong with you, are you some kind of dog? Can you just come back here, please? I don’t know if the others told you, but there’s something wrong with me. I’m sick, but not like I was today. Just, please call me back.” I hang up and pinch the bridge of my nose. Not even a year ago Richie would always pick up, no matter the time. Now I was lucky if he ever gave me the time of day. Bill comes back into the Mike comes into my room and sits at the end of my bed.

“You feeling better?” I nod. If he touches my forehead _I_ might just bite him.

“So I was looking through my books when you were out, and nothing is explaining what’s going on with you.” I tilt my head, confused.

“In all of the books, they never talk about developing a fever. It doesn’t make sense and the way your wound looked. It’s supposed to heal instantly, not get gross.” I scrunch my nose at his phrasing.

“The day after it was healed, Richie saw it. But when I got home it looked infected.” He looks contemplative.

“I think that’s a good thing.” Getting an infection is a good thing.

“No, don’t roll your eyes. I think your body’s rejecting it.” That’s good, but I still have a fever and an infected wound to deal with.

“Did you tell Richie what was going on?” He did say it was weird that I had a fever.

“No, he just showed up and didn’t say anything. Went straight to you.” That’s weird.

“Did someone call him?” Mike shakes his head no. So he just came over, for no reason? I feel a smile creeping onto my face, he came to visit me.

“Don’t take my word as truth, but I’m pretty sure you’re in the clear for lycanthropy. But we should keep watching for any signs.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Maybe I freaked out enough that I willed the virus out of my system. But there’s still the fact that werewolves are most likely real. I thought we’d left all that supernatural shit back in Derry, but apparently not.

“I’ll let you get some more rest.” He pats my leg and closes the door behind him.


	3. mess me up beyond all recognition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> consecutive update? This one's not long but that's alright.

My name is Richie Tozier, I’m in love with Eddie Kaspbrak, and I’m a monster. These are my fundamental truths. They’re things that just are, there’s nothing I can do to change them. These three things have been with me since day one. Some would argue that I haven’t always been a monster, not until the incident. But they’d be wrong. Even as a child I was more animalistic than my peers. I’d been disciplined many times for biting other kids, for leaving permanent marks. My father had always been fascinated by my teeth, they were sharp, animal-like. It seemed like it was fate that I’d be bitten, changed into the monster I always knew I was.

He was coming home from Eddie’s, they’d shared a totally platonic dinner for two. His car was in the shop so he had to take a shortcut through the woods. They were dark but Richie had taken this route enough times to know the general direction he needed to go. Eddie had protested, but he didn’t have a car so there wasn’t an option. It’s not like Richie could stay the night, Eddie didn’t have a spare room. And sleeping that close to Eddie was something his hormones could not handle. So here he was, walking in the pitch dark woods. Even though Richie had walked this path many times, it was shrouded in thick darkness, unnaturally so. There was no familiarity in the trees and no forgiveness in the glowing eyes ahead of him. Richie didn’t get a chance to run, the beast was too quick. It pinned him against the forest floor and snarled, dripping hot drool onto his face. He didn’t get a chance to scream before the animal clamped its jaws onto his throat. The pain burned like nothing else, not even Henry’s vile beatings. By some sick twist of fate the creature didn’t kill him, just left him to lie in his own blood. The darkness seemed to grow and cover every inch of Richie’s body, pulling him under.

He didn’t know how long he’d been under, but it was daylight when his eyes opened. Richie groaned in pain and tried to push himself up. A deep ache settled in his bones and he whimpered as his hand twitched. He tried to bring himself to a sitting position but pure agony burned through his body, he doubles over. A small whimper escapes his throat as his bones try to break free. Something unnatural overtakes his mind and body, turning him into something else.

He wakes up near his house, which is a miracle because Richie can not remember last night. Not clearly at least, he only remembers burning pain and hunger. His clothes are nowhere to be found, but luckily his house is in view. Richie runs as fast as his aching body lets him and quickly unlocks the door with his hidden key.

I had been fundamentally different since that night. It didn’t take long to figure out what was wrong with me. It was almost like going through puberty again, at the slightest change of emotion my body would tear itself apart. Sometimes after the shift, I’d be coherent enough to remember bits and pieces. I was coherent enough to know I wasn’t human anymore. I stopped hanging out with the losers so much, I couldn’t risk turning in front of them. I couldn’t risk making them like me. But the world has something against me because on the full moon Eddie kaspbrak happened upon me. The one night I was entirely inhuman, fully animal. My worst nightmare came true. I bit him, I infected him. Then I had to relive that moment the very next day when I listened to my voicemails. The fear in his voice, the pleading, I couldn’t stand it. The messages solidified the fact that I was a monster.


	4. Feed me back and forth your lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo it's been a hot minute since I've updated this fic, but fear not I am back with a brand new chapter.

My fever finally broke and I was actually able to stand on my own. The losers had each taken turns visiting and looking after me, though Richie hadn’t returned. But since I was finally feeling better we all decided to go out for dinner. Beverly stayed behind with me to help me get dressed, she claims my fashion sense is almost as awful as Richie’s.

“Just because you’re going to fashion school, doesn’t mean you can call my style ugly.” She rolls her eyes and lays out some clothes she brought for me.

“Eddie, polo shirts and fanny packs are for old men. Are you an old man?” I sigh in defeat.

“No.” She smiles.

“That’s what I thought.” She leaves the room so I can get dressed, I have to admit she does have good taste. I check myself out in the mirror before I leave. Bev’s got me dressed in dark blue dress pants rolled past my ankles and a simple white button-up. When I come out of my room she claps and has me do a spin.

“Richie won’t be able to take his eyes off you.” What?

“Richie?” That doesn’t make any sense, all Richie’s been doing is taking his eyes off me. I mean the guy can hardly stand to look at me for five seconds.

“You should see the way he looks at you.” I feel a slight blush creeping up my cheeks. This doesn’t make any sense, why would he _want_ to look at me?

“Stop joking around, Bev. Let’s just go.” She stops me with a hand on my arm and a sad look in her eyes.

“Do you really not see it?” I shake my head no. I run my hand through my gelled hair, running all my hard work.

“The way he looks at you, it’s the same way I look at Ben. He’s all over you.” That’s impossible, Beverly looks at Ben like she’s in love with him. Richie doesn’t love me.

“I don’t want to talk about this. Can we just go.” She relents and doesn’t say anything on the subject the whole way there.

Once we get to our table everyone is there, except Richie. Stan is glowering staring at the empty seat next to him.

“I thought you said he was coming?” Beverly asks, Stan doesn’t look up but answers with a frown.

“So did I.” It seems to be the end of that conversation, so we move on to ordering our food. About an hour into our diner party Richie shows up, looking a little worse for wear.

“Hi.” Is all he says as he heads straight to the bathroom. Looking around the table I decided to follow him. I slowly open the door to the washroom and the hinges protest against it, squeaking all the way.

“Richie?” He’s hunched over the sink staring at his reflection. HE doesn’t seem to hear me, so I call out his name again. I move closer and lay a cautious hand on his shoulder. He’s so tense it’s almost like I’m touching steel, he slowly turns around to meet my eyes.

“Are you ok?” Stupid question, of course, he’s not. Instead of answering he grabs my wrist and forces it to his throat.

“What?” He lays his hand over mine and squeezes, I can feel the protrusion of his Adam's apple bobbing against my hand.

“Tell me you hate me.”

“Richie, I don’t understand.” He squeezes his hand harder and I can feel his breath stuttering in his throat.

“I need you to hate me because I fucking hate the things I think about you. I can’t stand to look at you, I can’t even be in the same room as you without wanting to rip my skin off. I’m ruining your life, Eddie can’t you see it? I need you to hate me because I don’t know what I’ll do to you if you don’t.” His words leave me in stunned silence. I can’t even process the words he’s said to me.

“I can’t hate you, Richie. The only way you’re ruining my life is if you’re not in it.” He scoffs and releases my hand, I drop it as if I was burned. He leans in close and inhales deeply.

“You don’t even know the disgusting things I think of doing to you. You don’t know how hard I get thinking of all the ways I can ruin you.” A shiver of arousal passes through me, and the room suddenly feels to warm. I take a step back from him and he counters it with a step forward. He leans forward to the point that our breaths are mingling, our lips almost touching.

“I’m no good for you, and you’ll be happier when you understand that.” He backs away and brushes past me, the door clicks shut behind him. 

I walk back to the table on shaky legs, not over the incident in the bathroom. Beverly immediately picks up on my distress and sides out of the booth.

“What happened, did he say something.” He said a lot but I don’t feel like repeating any of that to Bev, maybe after I’ve processed it all.

“I just want to go home.” She nods and walks with me to her parked car, where she opens the door for me.

“What’d he say?” She wipes my cheek and I realize I’m crying.

“He said a lot and it doesn’t all make sense. He’s so fucking hot and cold with me and I don’t know if he likes me or hates me half the time.” I’m hoping Beverly has some insight on Richie’s thinking, they have always been super close.

“I can assure you he doesn’t hate you.” She says it with a laugh but it doesn’t lighten up my mood. I sigh.

“Then what does he feel about me, Beverly. And if I don’t get a straight answer from him soon, I don’t think I can continue on.” She’s silent for a moment, considering her options.

“Fuck, ok so I shouldn’t be telling you this but I don’t understand what Richie’s trying to do. He cares about you, Eddie. Like almost an unhealthy amount, but his feelings are pure.” If he cares about me so much why is he putting me through this emotional turmoil?

“Why does he always have to be elusive about his feelings, why can’t he ever be upfront.” She chuckles and pulls into my apartment parking lot.

“That’s just how he is, it’s in his nature to piss people off.” She finally gets a laugh out of me as we make our way to the building entrance. She kisses me on the cheek and hugs me goodbye.

“Drive home safe, Bev.” She nods and disappears into the night, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again.

I unlock my apartment door with a sigh and step into the darkness, flicking on the lights as I shut the door behind me. I undress quickly and don’t bother putting on my pyjamas, just settling for my black boxers. I methodically brush my teeth and wash my face, all while trying to calm my racing thoughts. I pull the covers back and crawl into bed, settling on my back. I try to close my eyes and concentrate on sleeping but my mind keeps turning to Richie. Sighing in defeat a grab my phone from the nightstand and dial Richie’s number.

“Eds?” He answers on the first ring which shocks me.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, and what you said.” It comes out more sensual then I intended, but I’m too tired to correct it.

“Fuck, you don’t even know what you do to me.” I pull in a deep breath and slide my hand down my body.

“Yeah? Then tell me.” I can hear him inhale sharply on the other end, a smirk stretches my lips.

“The way you look at me with those innocent eyes, how fucking good your ass looks in this little short-shorts of yours.” I palm myself over my boxers and let out a stuttered moan.

“Tell me what you want to do to me, Richie.” My voice is breathy and high, and Richie groans on the other end.

“I want to devour you, I want to cover every inch of your skin with marks so everyone knows you're mine.” The way his voice drops lower in pitch at the word mine makes my roll my hips up into my palm.

“Then stop pushing me away.” He’s silent for a while and I’m scared he’s hung up.

“If only you understood how dangerous it is to be with me. I’m going to hurt you, can’t you see I’m trying to save you?” I roll over and frown, the mood completely ruined.

“Then fucking explain it to me, Richie. You can’t keep stringing me along and expect me to just sit and act like everything’s fucking ok.” There’s a pained groan from his end and my anger is monetarily forgotten.

“Richie? Are you ok?” He utters a pained fuck and a loud thud sounds through the phone. I sit up in a panic and call out to him again.

“Richie? What the fuck is happening? Are you okay.”

“Fuck, Eds.” The phone clicks off and I’m staring at my home screen. In a panic, I dial again only to receive his voicemail.

“ _You’ve reached Richie Tozier, please leave a message._ ”

“I’m really worried about you, you sounded really hurt and then you just fucking hung up on me. I really need you to call me back so I know you’re ok.” I click end and scrub my hand over my face. There’s only so much more bullshit I can take from him, I know what Beverly said but it’s fucking hard with his frequent mood swings. I set my alarm and try to get some sleep.


	5. To be twisted by something, a shame without a sin

The sound of my phone ringing wakes me from my sleep and I blindly grab at the nightstand.

“Hello?” There’s laboured breathing at the other end of the line and I consider hanging up. It’s probably some stupid kid trying to prank call me.

“Eds? I’m sorry about last night.” His voice is tight and pained, and my concern skyrockets.

“Richie? What the fuck happened are you ok?” There’s a moment of silence where I hold my breath, waiting for a response.

“No, I’m not ok. I’m seriously hurt, I need you.” Something must be terribly wrong for Richie to be calling this early.

“Of course Where are you.” He gives me his address and I don’t even bother getting dressed. Before the clock even hits nine I’m out the door and driving to the rural part of Derry.

I frantically nock at the door and tap my foot as I wait for someone to answer. There’s a muffled ‘come in’ from behind the door and I quickly open it. It looks like a fucking murder scene in here. There’s a trail of blood leading from the front door to the kitchen, where Richie is laying half off the couch with a red-stained towel wrapped around his waist.

“Richie!” He flinches at my volume as I run to his side.

“What the fuck happened?” I slowly unravel the towel from his midsection to get a look at his injury. I gasp when it’s fully revealed. It’s a deep bloody gash with tattered skin surrounding it, it’s oozing a steady stream of dark red.

“Did you get attacked by a wild animal? Why the hell were you in the woods so early?” I bombard him with questions he doesn’t answer, he just whimpers as I clean around the wound with an alcohol swab.

“These are really deep, you have to go to a hospital.” His eyes open and his hand shoots out to stop me from getting up.

“No, no hospital.” That’s stupid, there is literally no way I can treat this at home. But I agree with him. When he inevitably passes out from pain or blood loss I’m taking him to a hospital.

“What the hell happened?” He lays his head back and closes his eyes.

“Fucking animal.” It wasn’t a full moon last night so there’s no chance that it was the wolf who bit me. But what kind of animal does _that_? For now, I tightly wrap gauze around the _still_ bleeding, _still_ open wound. 

“What were you doing?” He puts his hand over his eyes and sighs. He probably isn’t in the mood to be interrogated, but I don’t care. I need answers and I need them now.

“Was just walking around, and animal came out of nowhere.” That is the most half-ass explanation I’ve ever heard. I know he’s keeping _something_ from me, I’m just not sure _what._ Suddenly he sits up, completely disregarding his injuries.

“Richie?” He gets up off the couch and hurriedly walks to the door.

“Stay inside.” He orders, I follow him to the door. He swings it open and lifts his head high in the air, almost as if he’s smelling it.

“Get back inside now.” He doesn’t wait for a response before he’s shooting off into the woods. I follow after him as he runs alarmingly fast for the type of injuries he has. He stops in the middle of a clearing and begins to speak.

“This is my territory, you can’t be here.” He’s talking to a wolf, a fucking wolf. It looks rabid and malnourished, ready to kill at a moment's notice.

“Richie?” He holds his hand out in a stop symbol and tells me to get back. The wolf growls and takes a step towards Richie.

“Get the fuck out of here before I do something I’m going to regret.” Is Richie gonna kill it? With what weapon? The wolf growls deep in its jowls and launches itself at Richie. Everything blurs around me as I throw myself in front of Richie. The last thing I feel is a sharp burst of pain before my vision blacks out.

The first thing I notice is my whole body aches. The second thing I notice is that someone’s hand is in my hair.

“Rich?” My tongue is lead in my mouth as I try to speak. Who I think is Richie shushes me, and his hand tugs on the strands of my hair. I finally open my eyes and see Richie kneeling by the couch, where I’m laying on my back.

“What happened?” He looks away and takes a deep breath.

“Ok, bad news or worse news first?” I don’t want to hear bad news, but I guess that’s my only option.

“Worse.”

“You killed that wolf.” I killed something? But how, I don’t even remember what happened.

“Bad news?” I guess it can’t really be worse.

“You are definitely a werewolf.” That is infinitely worse. My fucking life is ruined by that. Turning into a monster every month and possibly killing people.

“Deep breaths, ok?” I close my eyes and take deep steady breaths, all the while Richie rubs my arm.

“But how?” It’s not even a full moon. Am I even more of a freak that I turn into a monster whenever?

“In the clearing, the wolf came at me, and then you just jumped between us and fucking went to town on it.” I feel sick.

“Don’t worry, I got rid of the body.” He doesn’t even sound fazed by it, he’s talking as if he just put the trash out. I try to sit up but a flash of pain shoots through my head.

“Don’t get up for a while, the pain will ease.” This is too much, I can’t deal with this. My whole fucking life has been turned upside down and he’s acting so nonchalant about it! I ignore his advice and get up, I have to steady myself on the couch.

‘Eds sit back down, you’re going to overexert yourself.” He pulls me back down and I growl at him. I slap my hand over my mouth in shock and he takes a step back from me. He holds his arms close to his body and takes deep breaths. He tries to bit back a whimper but my ears pick up on it.

“Richie? Are you alright?” He shakes his head no and I try to go to him, but he takes another step back.

“Eds, some things are going to come to light, and I know you’re not going to be happy. But I need you to know that I never wanted this to happen, and I’m so fucking sorry.” His legs buckle and he drops to the ground, crying out in pain.

‘What are you saying?” I think I might know, but I don’t want to say it out loud.

“I’m so sorry, Eds. I lo-” His sentence cuts off in a cry of anguish as I watch his body warp in front of me. I have to turn around and plug my ears to block out the sounds of his agony. Once I think it’s over I turn around, my mouth drops in shock. Standing in Richie’s place is the wolf who started it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love receiving comments from you guys, it just really makes my day. And I also love receiving feedback!


	6. All, for nothing at All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this is super short, but I think it builds onto the atmosphere

The silence is absolutely suffocating. I try to meet his eyes, but he refuses to look at me. After what feels like hours but is only minutes, I finally break the silence.

“How could you?” He makes no indication of having heard what I said, but I don’t care.

“You gave me this, this disease. And you lied to me. I thought you actually gave a shit about me, but I can see know you only care about yourself.” He sniffles but still won’t say anything.

“Can you just fucking say something?” He wipes at his eyes and finally turns to me, still not looking me in the eyes.

“I’m sorry, I messed up.” Understatement of the year.

“You messed up? No, you ruined my life. Sorry doesn’t cut it, Richie.” He gets up and passes around the room.

“Then what do you want from me? Do you want me to tell you how to fix it? Because if I knew we wouldn’t even be in this situation.” Maybe I’m madder then I should be, I mean he did say sorry. But every little thing has just been piling up, the missed calls, the avoidance. I’m at my breaking point, I just can’t take it anymore.

“I guess I wanted you to be better.” He lets out a dry chuckle, no emotion behind it.

“It’s never your fault, right? It’s always someone else’s because perfect Edward can never do any wrong.” I clench my hands, he continues to pace, sometimes clutching his side.

“That’s not true and you know it.” He stops and finally looks me in the eyes.

“I’m sorry that I’m not perfect, I’m sorry that your ideal version of me isn’t real. I’m sorry that I’m such a fuck-up and I ruined your life. I’m sorry that I can never be good enough for you.” He walks out and slams the door behind him A small charm hooked on the window falls off and shatters. I pick up the pieces and try to put them back together.

L OE R

The V is shattered into too many pieces to recreate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made this chapter so short to kind of demonstrate how quickly and how little time it takes for everything to go to shit. Also feedback in the comments is super appreciated, I love hearing what you guys think!


	7. Run until you feel your lungs bleeding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not like Physics :(

“Jesus, you look like hell.” I sigh

“Just got back.” My calm lasts through the sentence, then I break. The tears flow freely and Stan catches me when I fall into his arms. He doesn’t say anything as he leads me inside and sets me on the couch. He busies himself in the kitchen boiling water while I go through his tissues. He brings me a green tea and I carefully sip at it.

“What happened.” A lot of things.

“Eddie knows the truth and he wasn’t forgiving, though I didn’t expect him to be.” Stan pours me another cup once I’ve finished and hands me a tissue. I blow my nose and place it in the nearby trash can.

“Did you explain how you can’t control it, that it really wasn’t you.” I hadn’t had a chance to explain.

“It’s still me Stan, I still hurt him. I understand why he was angry.” He lays a hand on my shoulder and gently rubs back and forth.

“He told me he wished I was better. It fucking hurts.” 

“It’s alright, just take some deep breaths.” He hands me my cup and I take big sips from it. He continues to rub my back and I feel my muscles un-tensing and I let out a breath.

“He’ll come around, it’ll just take time.” I lay my head back against the couch and close my eyes.

“Stan, you didn’t see him. He was rightfully pissed, I don’t deserve his forgiveness.” I _changed_ him, I _lied_ to him, and I dared to blame him for the whole thing.

“The one time you take my side, and you’re completely wrong.” 

“But this is different, Richie. Someone did this to you, and you don’t have any control over it.” Why isn’t he understanding?

“And I did the exact same thing to him!” I jump up from my seat and look down at Stan.

“I’m the same as B- as the monster who did this to me, why can’t you see that.” He pulls me back onto his lap and cradles my head against his chest.

“Why can’t you see yourself the way I see you? Richie, you are not a monster.” He tries to make me look at him but I pull my head out of his grip.

“I didn’t come here to receive your praise.” I step out of his embrace and he frowns up at me.

“That’s not what this is, Rich. I’m just trying to get you to see the truth.” He’s the one who can’t see the truth. He’s never seen me fully shifted, never seen the killer I can be. 

“It was a mistake coming here.” He protests but I don’t listen, I’m not looking for sympathy tonight. But I don’t want to go home, I can’t go home.

I spend my night in the bar, wearing a low cut shirt and a sly smile. A hand crawls up my back and lightly wraps itself around my neck.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Tozier.” Patrick pulls up a stool and sits down in front of me, eyeing me hungrily.

“It’s been a while, Patrick.” He licks his lips and inhales deeply.

“I haven’t seen Henry in a while, would you know anything about that?” I know he can smell the blood, his blood on me.

“I killed him, he crossed my territory, I told him to stay back.” Patrick huffs and takes a swig of his drink.

“He brought you in, he took care of you.” I slam my hand on the table, heads turn but I ignore them.

“He _ruined_ me, and he got exactly what was coming.” Patrick’s hand closes around my throat and I smile up at him.

“That’s it, punish me, make me suffer for what I did.” His hand losses and I step away from him.

“Fucking useless.” I leave him standing in the bar with his mouth wide open.

I find myself back at Stan’s house, a walk of shame if I may. He opens the door with a knowing smile on his face.

“C’mon.” He leads me inside for the second time and brings me whiskey instead of green tea. His eyes keep drifting back to my scare and I put my hand against it, self-conscious. 

“You’re beautiful, Richie.” He puts a hand on my thigh and gently squeezes.

“You know that’s not what I’m here for, I don’t want your compliments.” I set the glass down and Stan gets the message.

“I want you to hurt me.” He sighs and pulls his hand away.

“No more, I can’t keep doing this every time you feel bad about yourself. You are not a bad person and I will not do anything to you until you can see that.” I curse under my breath.

“I don’t deserve you, Stan.” He smiles.

‘You deserve the world.”


End file.
